Of Scales and Feathers

The blankets over Spike's body felt impossibly comfortable. It felt like weeks since he had last slept in his soft, warm bed and the cushion of the comfortable material that lay over him was nothing short of blissful. Listening closely, he heard the gentle in-and-out patterns of a sleeping body beside him and turned to find a resting gryphoness by his side in the bed, curled up against him with her back turned.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight - he had seen it dozens of times over and still it made him happy to know his newly acquired friend could rest so easily thanks to his company. For just a few moments, he lay there in silent contemplation, looking back on the recent events. Everything had passed by so quickly and so easily that it hadn't even seemed that bad whilst they were in the Everfree. He and Gilda had bonded over the few days they were there, he had kept on gathering data on the various landmarks around the mysterious forest, and then they went back to Zecora's hut to report their findings.

In retrospect, it was all a bit too easy. It was as if the trip had never happened at all. He gave a laugh at the thought, which apparently was just enough to awaken the sleeping gryphoness at his side. "Hey," she said softly, rolling over to look him in the face. Her expression, however, worried Spike. It was nothing short of terror, and aside from her tone it seemed as if she was truly afraid.

"What's wrong?" he asked sincerely, rolling over to face her entirely. She responded with silence. "Gilda?" he asked quietly, tapping her shoulder. Upon doing this, she reacted so quickly that Spike jumped at her response.

"Wake up," she said with the same horrified expression. All of a sudden, the warmth and comfort of his home began to give way to the cold and unforgivably uncomfortable feeling of dread and confusion. The air felt as if winter had overtaken Ponyville in a matter of seconds and Spike wondered whether or not some insane occurrence was overtaking his hometown once again.

"Spike, come on. You have to wake up," Gilda said sternly, shaking the young dragon a bit more vigorously. When his eyes shot open and he gave a start, Gilda gave an expression composed of both relief and worry. "Oh, thank goodness. C'mon."

"What's happening?" he asked groggily, trying to take in his surroundings all at once. It was like he had been dropped into some foreign country - everything looked different from before. And not just because they were in the Everfree Forest, if he recalled correctly; everything looked different. "Where are we?"

"I don't know, but we have to get you moving," she said as she stood and forcibly moved Spike onto his feet. The air felt like it was composed of invisible ice, and he suddenly realized that the fire was completely gone.

"The fire?" Spike asked shortly as a chill took over his body, causing him to shiver slightly in a futile effort to warm himself up. He could faintly make out Gilda's expression - it looked just like the face in his dream, and for some reason that only served to send another chill down his spine.

"Gone. I have no idea how this happened, but-" she began, taking notice of Spike's condition through bumping into him in the darkness. "We have to get a new fire going. Now," she said, her tone far beyond the casual demeanor Spike had become accustomed to. This was her mercenary-side speaking. Survival-mode had kicked in.

"Hold on," Spike said through his trembling, words shaking along with his body. He focused for a moment, then felt his body raising a strong heat through his body. He bellowed out a controlled, moderate flame and kept it blowing, much to his approval, and it gave him a moment to survey his surroundings. The warmth felt incredibly good and it gave the two a chance to reacquaint themselves with the area.

"Oh, you're too useful," Gilda said with a quick laugh. Through his steady blowing, Spike smiled slightly and tried not to laugh. He would tell her not to joke around if it weren't for him keeping them both safe from the elements.

He was right. Nothing was the same. The little stockpile Gilda had made just before allowing Spike to sleep after her had disappeared, and the fire pit Spike had dug out and constructed was also missing. Not only that, but there seemed to be.. something in the distance, just beyond the treeline.

"Spike," Gilda said very softly. Another chill down Spike's spine. Her tone had shifted from approving back to fearful in only a second. Then he saw it. She was staring at something rather close.

And it was staring back.

"RUN!" came the command, and then it was as if Tartarus itself had been unleashed upon the Everfree. Spike immediately obeyed, having been spun around by Gilda and following her as she bolted the opposite direction. Howling, scratching, cracking of branches and leaves. They were being hunted, Spike quickly realized.

Only one thing tended to howl like that when it came to the Everfree: Timberwolves. And from the sound of it, several of them were hot on their trail. In the darkness, it was all Spike could do to keep up with Gilda and not trip over his feet at the same time. He had taken to dropping onto all fours in order to keep up with her, using all of his brute strength to match her years of experience. Every so often, he would belt out a large flame to reorient both of them with the area.

"There! Keep running!" Gilda said, taking a sharp turn towards what looked like a clearing in the treeline. With any luck, the moonlight would give them a bit of a fighting chance against what now sounded like dozens of predators following them.

Suddenly, Spike realized something horrifying - they could truly be overrun here. Maybe not Gilda, considering she had only to bolt into the air as soon as they found an opening in the trees, but Spike had nothing to use in that regard. He was strong - all dragons were, really - but not quite strong enough to take on a pack of bloodthirsty predators dead-set on their next meal.

He could only hope that Gilda would not abandon him at the first chance. Wait, what was he thinking? Gilda had already proved she wouldn't leave his side - he woke up under her wing because she thought he was cold. If that didn't prove she was concerned for him at least as a teammate, what would? He had to trust that Gilda would pull through.

"Spike," she called back, to which he gave a quick reply. "How much do you trust me?" she said through her sprint. As they approached the opening, Spike saw the moonlight flooding into the arena-like circle of trees.

"Enough. What're you thinking?" he asked, jumping over an upturned root and then ducking just in time not to be hit by a low-lying branch. It would be fun if it weren't for the pack of timberwolves close behind. He could still hear them clawing and bashing their way through obstacles - whatever it took to catch their meal, they would do it.

There came no reply. All of a sudden, Gilda was gone. He felt the wind hit him with brute force and had to look away lest he want a face-full of leaves and dust. He looked up to see her rise out of the clearing and circle out of view. Suddenly, he felt nothing but fear. An overwhelming sense of isolation and abandonment overcame him in an instant, and if not for his impending doom he might stop to stare in disbelief.

Instead, he just kept running. He made it to the clearing. He made it into the light, and he wasn't sure if it really was much of an improvement. His eyes darted to the sky once again, but nothing could be found against the backdrop of stars and darkness. He whipped himself around just in time to dodge out of the way of a pouncing timberwolf - he had come that close to becoming prey, and he hadn't even known it.

One misstep and that was all over. He gave a breathy, disheartened laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. Spike backed away as he saw the timberwolf tumble across the ground before reorienting itself and coming in for another strike. But just as he though to dodge once again, a sickening crack made itself known as well as a brown blur slamming down into view.

"I don't think so, you overgrown twig," Gilda said angrily, panting as she got to her feet and backed up towards Spike. "Sorry about that - I had to get to the air as quick as possible."

Then Spike remembered. Gryphons didn't fight as well on the ground. They preferred to have air-superiority, and tended to dive-bomb their enemy into submission; Twilight had once explained it to him during one of her particularly enjoyable history lessons. Had he been given a moment to, he may have felt guilty at believing Gilda had abandoned him at the first opportunity. Unfortunately, he was afforded no such luxury.

"Alright, Scales. Sink or swim!" she shouted, taking to the skies but this time opting to stay within range of Spike's vision. More timberwolves poured out of the forest and, without the element of surprise, Spike was ready for them. He was a dragon. No bundle of sticks was going to beat him here - not now, not ever. If the incident on Applejack's farm was any indication, these things went down easily enough.

Off to his side, Gilda was sweeping in and tossing aside the wolves brave or foolish enough to engage her directly. Ahead of him, his first contender was making its way towards him - and fast. He let instinct take over and ducked low before pushing forward as it leapt toward him. He hit his mark, slamming into its underbelly and tossing it aside with ease.

"These things are light as a feather!" he shouted towards Gilda with a bit of joy in his tone. Finally, some good news. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. The wolf he tossed aside like a ragdoll got up angrier, however, and it didn't look like it would fall for the same trick twice. It came in low, and Spike did the only thing he could think to do on a moment's notice.

Bringing down his weight onto one open-handed strike, Spike's claws caught his would-be assailant across the head squarely. It had the desired effect, too, as the creature burst into green smoke and a pile of sticks that scattered in the direction of Spike's swipe. Brute force was definitely the way to go, then. Keeping that in mind, he took down another two wolves easily enough, suffering only a scratch or two from stumbling over roots or hitting in the wrong way. Nothing even minor for a dragon's scales, and Spike considered his thick skin a blessing.

Gilda, however, was not nearly as lucky. Spike turned his head to see Gilda swooping in towards one wolf, only for another to finally get wise enough to ambush her and tackle her out of the air from the side. She let out a yell of panic and Spike came bolting as fast as his legs might carry him.

She rolled onto her back and thrust her hind legs outwards, sending one wolf flying into the other and allowing her enough time to get onto her feet. She let out a frustrated, pained yell as she did so, however, and Spike immediately realized what had happened. With her wing extended, her flight so low, and being taken by surprise, it was the perfect storm to create the worst injury. Gilda had landed on her left wing - and hard. She stumbled towards the injury, only to be caught by Spike and propped onto her feet.

"It's alri-" she began, wincing in pain as she did. "I'm alright. Keep going. We have to." Her breathing was sharp, like she was trying not to pass out from what Spike could only imagine was indescribable pain. This complicated things, and all Spike could think to do was hold off whatever came their way. Whether that be two timberwolves or two-hundred. This was it.

Letting loose another bout of fire, he pointed it at whatever target he could in an attempt to scare off the wolves. It worked, to a degree. A few glowing eyes in the trees bolted away and did not return to their brethren. Only natural that something made of wood should be afraid of fire, he supposed.

But then it dawned on him - if he hit one of these things, and it got teleported, would he be sending a vicious predator straight into the Canterlot Castle throne room? Or would these things, made of magic themselves, simply get burned?

He was given no time to ponder, and no time to decide, of course. In the next second, everything slowed to a crawl in Spike's eyes. Adrenalin, mixed with a protective instinct over a wounded friend, took over Spike's thought process. As the two previously disabled timberwolves shook the impact that Gilda had thrown at them off, they bolted simultaneously towards Spike in a last-ditch effort.

A bright-green inferno was all that encompassed Spike's field of vision, and from behind him a shocked Gilda forced her eyes shut and turned away from the intensity of the flame. Whatever chill the Everfree air brought with it was quite literally burned away as Spike's flame spewed forth uncontrollably, incinerating the grass at their feet and utterly destroying the unfortunate timberwolves that had attacked them.

When the flames stopped coming forth and Spike came to his senses, he could do nothing but kneel from exhaustion. On his hands and knees, he coughed up what felt like shards of glass as dark green smoke came pouring forth from deep within his body. He felt the gentle, albeit shaky touch of Gilda's clawed hand upon his back, and could make out a muffled voice - he assumed it was hers. Hoped it was hers.

Rubbing away the stinging sensation in his eyes, he opened them only to blink forcefully a few times in order to clear the blurriness and tears that had set upon him in the aftermath of such a devastating attack. It seemed to have done the trick, even if Spike couldn't see it himself - no timberwolves came forth to attack them again, and now the young dragon could focus on what really mattered to him.

"Gilda," he called out, his eyes still shut and his face contorted in both frustration and pain. "Gilda, are you alright?" He reached out, waving one arm to feel for the gryphoness. Then, his claws slid across something solid and a moment later he felt two slender arms wrap around him tightly. Letting out a quick, exhausted laugh, he returned the hug happily. Perhaps more willfully than he had ever hugged someone before.

"It's okay," Gilda replied, her voice sounding just as tired as Spike felt. For a few minutes, the two sat in silence, simply enjoying that they were alive. Holding one another, sharing warmth and comfort. If only for a few seconds, they were well and truly alright. But then it all fell apart when Spike remembered Gilda's wing.

"Gilda, you're wing. What can we do?" he asked quickly, being sure to adjust his posture to support the gryphoness more generously. She shifted against him, being sure to place most of her weight to the right side of her body. As his vision cleared, Spike silently cringed at the sight. A broken wing was nothing new to him, but this seemed a tad.. extreme.

"We have to get it," she said, her voice dropping off for a moment before picking up in a shocked manner, as if she was being tugged out of a deep sleep, "Into a splint. Then we need a fire." She smiled at that, and laid her head against Spike for a moment. "You did good, Scales. Saved our hides."

Tired as he was, Spike could only tilt his head to give Gilda a pseudo-nuzzle atop her head, returning the gesture with a smile of his own. "You know, for a second I thought you were gonna fly off and leave me here."

"Yeah right," she responded in a shaky voice. "and leave you with all those cuddly puppies? Not on your life." With fortune and luxury so thin between the two of them, it was nice to know the gryphoness could muster up an honest laugh between the two of them.

"Alright," Spike said with a bit of sadness. He had to get moving, had to heal Gilda as best he could, he just had to do something. "You stay here - I won't go far. I just need to get us some firewood to keep us both warm." The chill was beginning to seep through his scales once again, and he had to be sure that he was in peak condition to take care of Gilda's wing. And whatever other injuries she might have.

"Okay. But be careful. I won't be pulling any stunts over here," she replied whilst adjusting herself to a laying position. Her wing was stiffly held out away from her, the injury on full display as she tried to keep it comfortable. Giving it one last look before turning away, he got a sense of urgency that pushed him to find something useful within the unforgiving territory around them.

But if there was one thing that there was a lot of around here, it was wood. And wood was exactly what Spike needed. "Gotta take the little victories," he told himself proudly as he gathered a bundle of fallen sticks and small logs into his arms before carrying it back towards Gilda. Not a growl or a howl was heard whilst skirting the edge of the forest, but he wanted to make sure he didn't push his limits. Get in, get out - that was how he chose to handle it.

It paid off, too, because Gilda was more than a little grateful to have the firewood as the chilling temperature seeped through her ruffled feathers. As best he could - and with a few points here and there from Gilda - Spike managed to get a decent fire going out of the materials he gathered.

"That's two times within the past hour you've saved both of us. You keep this up and I'll have to find some way to thank you," Gilda said with what Spike could only assume was a playfully seductive expression. Behind tired eyes and ruffled feathers, however, it only served to make Spike laugh hard enough to cause a surge of pain shoot through his body.

"Easy there, Scales. You and I both need some rest. Why don't you catch some shut-eye while I take care of this?" she said, nodding her head towards her broken wing. In reply, Spike boldly scooted closer to Gilda and raised his hands up to the fire.

"We're in this together, Feathers. You and me. I'll sleep after I know you're okay." His reply was honest, as was his expression as he locked eyes with her. She sat completely still for a moment before replying with a satisfying smile and a small sigh.

"Alright, but don't go pushing it. You worry me enough already," she said as she turned away, choosing to look into the fire instead. Being worried over never felt so pleasant, he found. He'd take it as a compliment.

So with a long night ahead of him, Spike settled in and prepared himself for the physical and mental strain. But after sneaking a few glances over at Gilda and finding she was doing the same, he couldn't help but let loose a smile meant only for himself. They had shared an experience that would never be forgotten by either of them, and now they shared an unspoken bond towards one another that could match those of his closest friends.

Let the Everfree throw what it might their way. Spike now had one, single, essential goal and he would see it through totally. He was going to get out of this forest, and he was going to have Gilda by his side when he did.

That was a promise.